


il y a longtemps que t’aime; jamais je ne t’oublirai

by abrightgrayworld



Series: the art of grief and letting go [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien's and Marinette's lives as Chat Noir and Ladybug are over, And with that comes some sad realizations and memories, Angst, F/M, Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrightgrayworld/pseuds/abrightgrayworld
Summary: “What are you thinking about?” Adrien asks her softly. He knows, of course, but the quiet, heartbroken reply that comes isn’t any easier to hear.“Her.”--There isn’t much either can say to the other on nights like this.





	il y a longtemps que t’aime; jamais je ne t’oublirai

When Adrien surfaces suddenly from sleep in the middle of the night, he can tell even before he opens his eyes that it’s one of those nights. 03:09, the clock reads, and he frowns.

He blinks wearily and then gets up, casting a sad glance at the rumpled, now-cold side of the bed. He pads softly into the kitchen to make two cups of hot chocolate, the silence of the apartment blanketing him as he does.

With two steaming ladybug and cat mugs in his hands, Adrien makes his way to the balcony of the apartment. He sees a figure perched on the edge of a chair near the railing, shoulders slumped. When he pushes the door to the balcony open and steps out, it doesn’t react.

“Marinette,” Adrien calls softly. She startles, turning to face him, and Adrien’s heart sinks at the sight of tear tracks on her cheeks and the lost, tired look in her eyes. “ _Chérie,”_ he whispers, sinking into a chair next to her. She takes a mug from him with shaky hands and returns to gazing blankly out at the shadowed buildings and twinkling lights in the distance, a scene far too pretty for the heaviness of the night. She leans into him when he puts an arm around her and pulls her close, fingers loosely curled around her mug.

Mari gets like this whenever she’s working too much, and the spells hit her hard. Adrien’s may be more often, but he takes less time to rise out of his sadness than Mari does. Adrien doesn’t think she’s slept properly in three days, and while he’s been itching to force her into bed and just hold her until she has a good night’s rest, he knows she’s right in the thick of designing and planning her new autumn line and would be furious at the interruption. It was surprising that she came to bed tonight anyway, but Adrien doubts that she did it because she wanted to. As much as she hates to admit it, Mari can’t stay up the way she used to when they were teenagers, but it seems that even exhausted, sleep doesn’t come easy anymore.

“What are you thinking about?” Adrien asks softly. He knows, of course, but the quiet, heartbroken reply that comes isn’t any easier to hear.

“Her.”

There isn’t much either can say to the other on nights like this. Their conversations during these spells are well-worn, miserably familiar songs they sing to each other in the still of their darkest nights. The best they can do is talk and assure and pretend to believe, at least until the next time.

“I bet wherever she is, she’s thinking about you,” he says. “If I were away from you, I know I would.”

“She’s a god, _minou_ ,” Mari replies. “She’s probably forgotten about me already. If she’s even here in our world anymore.”

“She is, Mari,” Adrien says. He sets their untouched and quickly-cooling mugs on the ground and wraps his arms around his girlfriend fully. “Tikki needs to be here, you know, in case Ladybug is needed again. And do you really think she would ever forget any one of her chosen?”

Usually at this point, Mari will softly acquiesce, and Adrien will kiss her softly and lead her back to bed, holding her close for the rest of the night. Then they will wake up and smile at each other in understanding, the notion that their lives as Ladybug and Chat Noir are well and truly over not so terrible in the face of sunlight and love.

This isn’t a usual night.

“Tikki called me Indira once,” Mari says, and her hands clench, knuckles a ghostly white in the pale moonlight. Adrien’s eyes widen; he hasn’t heard this before. “She was talking to me without looking at me, and we were laughing and she called me Indira. And I asked her who that was and she started to apologize but—” Her voice breaks and she ducks her head, her eyes watering. “She couldn’t remember my name. She called me so many and she was getting so panicked and I told her not to worry and that she was just tired from the akuma fight that night. But then she started crying, and she didn’t stop until she fell asleep; she was so miserable. And I—I _knew_ she was old and that she’d had so many chosen, but I don’t think I fully realized until then and I just—” She takes a shuddering breath. “How many do you think she’s forgotten? Or thought of as someone else? How much pain do you think she’s gone through, trying to sort through the names of everyone she loved and lost and knowing there are gaps in her memory that she can’t fill? How long before I’m added to that list and not remembered?”

Adrien doesn’t move, his breath caught in his lungs.

“She’s a god, Adrien,” Mari whispers. “Time passes so fast for her. I can’t compare with that. And I know I’m selfish and forgetting probably hurts her more than it hurts me, but I love her so much. Loved. And she loved me and she could forget so easily.”

She turns to face Adrien, and now there are tears slipping down her cheeks that mirror the ones that have started falling down his. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “I never meant to tell you. I didn’t want you to think that Plagg might—”

Adrien feels his eyes well up even more. That was the first thing he’d thought when Mari had told him, and she makes a distressed noise as she realizes.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Adrien shakes his head.

“It’s okay.” It’s not. “I’m glad you told me. You…you actually probably should have told me before.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she repeats. They fall into silence, still clutching each other.

“Maybe they won’t remember us,” Adrien says after a while. “But they’ll remember that we loved them and they loved us. That’s enough.” _That has to be enough_ , he thinks.

Mari doesn’t respond, just shifts back on her chair and takes his hand. Together, they stare out into the night, waiting for the sun to rise.

**Author's Note:**

> Chérie means "dear" in French. Minou is kitty. :)
> 
> I wrote this spontaneously when I was supposed to be studying, whoops. :P It went in a different direction than I intended but I really like it! I'll probably write a followup from Tikki's point of view, and maybe Plagg and other characters too, if there's interest. I hope you all enjoyed this!
> 
> Title comes from the French nursery rhyme "À la claire fontaine." It means, roughly, "I have loved you for so long; I will never forget you."


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